Chapter 1

2019 Words
Chapter 1Fred Munson’s heart was thundering in his ears, and he breathed in deeply in an attempt to center himself. Be kind to yourself—Natasha’s voice was as clear in his head as the chatter of the two graying women sitting in the corner was. “Are you going to move?” Raymond, his partner, gave him a light shove in the direction of the counter. Fred took a stumbling step, a blush warming his cheeks, but he reminded himself he was here as a police officer, albeit on a coffee break, but still an officer, and straightened his back. He liked Nortown. It was small and quiet, the people were friendly, and best of all was the café. Here no one looked at him funny unless he counted Raymond, and it made him braver than he was anywhere else. The café was small and in dire need of a facelift, but it still had a certain charm. The black and white checked floor would come into fashion again soon, and the turquoise countertop was almost scarred enough to be shabby chic. Jen, the red-haired woman—who, if Fred had understood it correctly, owned the café—smiled at him. “Good afternoon, Officer.” She winked at Fred, which brought the blush back on. Fred hated it, but he tried to do what Natasha, his therapist, had told him to do and separate it from his shyness. Blushing was one thing, being shy, another. He took another deep breath, smelling the coffee and some other sweet, fruity scent. He’d stopped seeing Natasha. She’d helped him a lot, but in the end he’d kept rescheduling their appointments. He still considered her his therapist though. “Are there many tourists on the roads?” Jen reached for two cups as she waited for them to answer. Fred cleared his throat to speak, but Raymond took a small step forward and leaned against the counter. “It’s been steadily increasing during the week.” Jen nodded and sought Fred’s gaze. “One coffee with milk?” He nodded, swallowed, and forced himself to speak. “Yes, please.” Her smile brightened. “May I tempt you with something else?” She gestured at the display of baked goods and sandwiches. “I’ll have a coffee, black, and a bear claw,” Raymond interjected. Fred might have imagined it, but was the quick flattening of Jen’s lips a sign of annoyance? “A bear claw for you too, Officer Munson?” She leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. “The cheesecake is to die for.” He smiled. “I’ll have one of those then.” “Good choice.” She made quick work of fixing their orders. “Any vacation time coming up for you or will it have to wait until there are fewer people on the roads?” Fred opened his mouth to answer since she was looking at him, but Raymond was quicker. “I won’t take any vacation time this summer. I’m retiring in November, so I figured I’d help the force out by working through the busy season.” He nodded at Fred. “But Fred here only has a couple of hours left before he ditches us for three whole weeks.” Fred looked down at the floor. He wasn’t ditching them. The Captain had told him to take three weeks off. He’d only taken one week last year and the Captain wasn’t pleased about it. “That’s great. Good for you, Fred.” Jen did sound a little annoyed. Fred chanced a glance at her and there was a crease between her brows he’d never seen before. “So, you’ll get a new partner come November?” The air got stuck in his throat. Raymond might be an ass, but at least Fred knew what to expect. Getting a new partner wasn’t something he looked forward to. He’d have to…talk…and try to get to know him or her. His pulse sped up. “Erm…” “He’ll get someone; some newbie who doesn’t know shit.” Raymond slapped Fred’s shoulder, grabbed his tray, and headed for a table by the windows. Fred sighed. The sun was streaming in through the windows, he wished they could’ve sat somewhere he wouldn’t be sweating buckets. “It’ll be great, Fred. Can’t get worse than it is, right?” Jen gave him a soft smile when he gave her a wide-eyed look. “Will you come up here during your time off?” Come to Nortown? He lived in Waterside Cross, a fifteen-minute drive north of Whiteport, but it would still take him more than an hour to get here. It was a long trip to get a cup of coffee. Had the police station not been in Whiteport, he wouldn’t have minded moving here, but he liked his job, and being a cop was all he knew how to do. “I don’t know.” Jen handed his tray to him. “It’s a bit of a drive, isn’t it?” He nodded. “Well, I’ll miss you, but you enjoy your time off, Officer.” She winked before grabbing the coffee pot and heading to the table where the gray-haired women were knitting. She’d miss him? Fred didn’t think anyone would notice if he disappeared off the face of the earth. On bad nights, he convinced himself he’d be one of those people who died in their homes and weren’t found until months later. He had no friends and no contact with his family, and while Raymond might notice if he wasn’t in the patrol car, he doubted he’d waste any energy checking on him. With a sigh, he went to sit across from Raymond. “Are you flirting with her?” What? Fred blinked at him. “Because I have to tell you, women like men who are a bit brasher.” Fred nodded. He was sure Raymond was correct, but he wasn’t brash, and he didn’t flirt with women. Jen was lovely, but he liked his partners a whole lot manlier—not that he’d ever tell Raymond. He’d made the mistake of coming out once—hence no contact with his family. It wasn’t something he’d do again. “What the f**k?” Raymond dropped his bear claw right as a rusty, red Opel Ascona shot through town like a scalded cat. Fred got to his feet, ready to run to the police car. “We’re on a break.” Raymond grabbed the bear claw and bit into it. “What?” “You have one hour and fifty-three minutes until you’re on vacation, do you want to chase after some i***t in a junk car and spend hours doing paperwork?” Writing a speeding ticket didn’t take hours. Fred straightened his back. “That car is a danger to everyone else who’s out in traffic around here. The roads are narrow and a lot of logging trucks drive here. If there’s a collision, there would most likely be a fatal outcome, and he drove fast in town. People are walking here.” “Easy now, no need to go into hysterics. He’s long gone by now anyway. It would’ve been different if we were in the car.” He sipped on his coffee and moaned. Fred sat again but his hands stayed curled into fists for a few seconds longer. The driver of that car was a danger to everyone here. * * * * Zeppelin “Zen” Cave pushed the old Opel Ascona to the max. Calling it a beauty would be a lie, but the engine purred, and it took the curves smooth as…something. If only he could find the right f*****g road. He had a little more than twenty-five hours to get to Minwall. It should be a piece of cake if he could only get out of these woods. With one eye on the road, he tried reaching for the map on the passenger seat. He changed position and his foot pushed down on the gas pedal a little harder as he stretched his back. His black Master of Puppets T-shirt was clinging to his sweat-damp skin. This was a no-frills car; back in 1988, cars didn’t come with a proper AC, and July was extra hot this year. The map almost slid off the seat as he took a turn a little too fast. Straightening it, he tried to find Whiteport. He’d been sure he was in Northfield, but the town he’d driven through a little while ago was too small to be Northfield, and now he had no idea where he was. A sudden blare made him jump. When he looked up, a logging truck took up most of his visual field. His heart jumped to his throat as he slammed the breaks. The car skidded a little on the road, but Zen managed to get control of it. The truck drove past, all but licking the side of his tiny Opel. Getting the car rolling again, Zen steered off to the side of the road to park. f**k. For a few seconds, he sat there staring out through the windshield. This was why most people participating in the race had a buddy with them. If he’d had a companion, he could’ve watched where he was driving while his buddy checked the map. Or, he could’ve done what most sane people would have done and stopped the car before consulting the map. The blare of that truck still rang in his ears as he drank the last of his water, cursing that he hadn’t brought more bottles. Being in the middle of nowhere, it could be hours until he came across a store, or a place where he could grab something to eat. Staring at the map, he traced the road he believed he’d been driving on. Could he have missed Northfield and the town back there was Snowmelt? He hadn’t seen any ski-slopes, though. Snowmelt was big on skiing. With shaking hands, he signaled a turn despite there being no traffic, and drove back the way he’d come. The nature was amazing—huge old trees with moss-covered trunks hugging the roadsides. Had he been a rich man, he would’ve bought a vacation home in the area. Riding his motorcycle on these roads would be great. Twenty minutes later, since he was driving slower on the way back, he turned in on a sad-looking parking lot, across from a small grocery store. He’d go in there soon, but first he’d grab something in the café—sugar always helped a stressful situation. As he parked, two cops walked out of the café. Zen sighed and got out of the car, pretending he’d never broken a speeding limit in his entire life. The younger of the two stumbled to a stop. The glare he gave Zen would’ve been amusing if he hadn’t been dressed in a uniform. “Afternoon, Officer.” Zen walked past them, wiping his palm against his worn black jeans as he went. The bunch of keys jingled in his hand despite there only being the car key and a spare one to Justin’s house. He’d handed over all his other keys before he left, and he needed to give back Justin’s key too, since Justin didn’t live in the house anymore. “Excuse me.” The older cop took a step forward. The uniform strained to contain his pot belly, and Zen noticed there were crumbs on it as if he’d had a big Danish pastry while leaning back in his chair. “Yes?” The officer adjusted his pants by hefting up his belt. “We saw you come pretty fast through the town a little while ago.” Fuck. “Nah, couldn’t have been me. I’ve never been here before.” The man narrowed his eyes. “We saw you.” The younger man cleared his throat. “It was your car. Driving like that is a danger to everyone living around here.” Zen crossed his arms over his chest and stared into his eyes. There was a flicker of uncertainty, and Zen grinned. “I agree with you, but it wasn’t me.” A blush spread on the man’s cheeks. The dark stubble hid some of it, but far from all. “We know what we saw.” “Do you have proof?” Zen continued to look the man straight in the eye, his face a blank mask, and his voice in an even tone. The sun was glaring at him and he wished he could remove his T-shirt, but he didn’t let any of it show on his face. “It’s your word against ours.” Zen nodded. “True. But do you want to take it that far?” The cop opened his mouth to respond, but the older one took a step forward, blocking him from Zen’s view. “We’ll let you off with a warning this time, should we catch you again, there will be consequences.” Fucking cops.
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